


My Virgin (Revisited)

by von_gelmini, witchway



Series: Messages [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: A teeny weeny bit of plot for the next book hinted at, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22875139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gelmini/pseuds/von_gelmini, https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: All the ‘normal person’ talk was done. Peter’s day, Tony’s day. It felt a bit… practiced, but wanted. It was something new. There was going to be a lot of ‘new’. Which, given how bad the ‘old’ had gotten, was a good thing.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Messages [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558027
Comments: 49
Kudos: 74





	1. Inertia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the ‘normal person’ talk was done. Peter’s day, Tony’s day. It felt a bit… practiced, but wanted. It was something new. There was going to be a lot of ‘new’. Which, given how bad the ‘old’ had gotten, was a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

Peter had been told his entire life that he could not read in dreams.

Which made his dream-trips to libraries somewhat… awkward.

Peter’s dream-life was weird in general, he understood. He never had the show-up-for-tests-without-studying dreams because in real life he always showed up for tests that way. And his show-up-in-public-naked dreams were also non-events. In those dreams the crows ignored him as much as they did in real life. But reading in dreams? He seemed to do it all the time, and usually effortlessly. _As long as he didn’t notice that he was dreaming._ But if that thought occurred to him, the words would swim away in cooperation with standard-dreaming conventions, and he would be left irritated at himself for his unhelpful memory of conventional dream-rules. 

His life felt like that now.

The morning kiss followed by talking about Tony’s latest tech project… _when was the last time they had talked in bed about tech?_ A morning shower with a complete lack of rush. Breakfast. Tech talk about the Sydney patent. All so relaxed and casual Peter almost forgot they weren’t on vacation, that he actually _did_ have classes to get to. A car called for him so he could be driven to Columbia (instead of webslinging it there to save time.) A long kiss goodbye at the elevator door. Peter could have caught up on schoolwork in the car, but he was too busy gaping out the window. Was _this_ his life now?

In the shower they had talked about the sex the night before. Traded smiles and compliments and some tender morning-after analysis. The same way they had when they had first started dating. It was an intimate bit of post-post-coital pillow talk that Peter didn’t know existed; hadn’t ever seen on porn or read about on _any_ thing that showed up on AO3. He had no idea how much he had missed it. (Especially when Tony’s compliments turned into kisses, and the kisses turned heated, and then he was pressed up against the shower wall for some morning sex. _Oh_ he had missed that, too.)

Was _that_ a normal part of his life now too?

He walked around Columbia like the survivor of an earthquake. With one exception he felt like a man on one long, lovely drug trip. (The exception, of course, was the new phone. It wasn’t just the new-phone issues, it was the fact that he had it at all. A constant reminder of what he had done to the first phone. A reminder of The Cold, the secret he had yet to tell Tony.)

For hours he walked from class to class in a daze. He _should_ be walking on air, elated. He _should_ be walking around like a man in love. But that felt too much like reading in a dream. If he tried it, _and noticed he was trying it_ , wouldn’t that end it all?

At least the denizens of campus were pissing him off a lot less. That was good. The Cold that normally permeated everything about college life was only background noise today. He even found most of his lecturers less ludicrous and that was a relief. It might not last, but he enjoyed the respite. 

Maybe the elation he _should_ be feeling was tempered by a perfectly logical reason — he was still worried. He hadn’t told Tony _everything_. There were things that happened up on the roof that they still hadn’t addressed. Peter had apologized for what happened to the belt and trousers (he was _still_ trying to wrap his brain around what happened to the belt and trousers) but they hadn’t really _talked_ about it. And he wasn’t sure he was going to work up the nerve _to_ talk about it.

But he knew _where_ he wanted to talk about it.

He just wasn’t sure he could convince Tony a trip to the Avengers compound was necessary. 

~~~~~

Tony busied himself for about an hour after Peter left for school. That was his limit for the puttering-around-the-penthouse. 

He had meetings to go to since Peter was in class. Only he didn’t want to. He wasn’t ready to throw himself back into that kind of work. Not in person yet, until he had a better handle on how to deal with the business versus being able to stay himself. The past couple of days, even though it was over, had left him… The reason he kept himself away, it left him… He didn’t want to go back to that but he couldn’t be… When he and Peter were together so intensely, apparently either good or bad (he’d had no ‘bad’ to go on before), it left him… vulnerable. He paused in his thought the same as he might pause in his speech. It left him _feeling_ vulnerable. Log that. 

He had to learn to balance the two things, how to stay himself and still be what they needed. What _he_ needed, if he was honest. They were both parts of his identity. Not as entirely separate as he’d been saying they were. There were a few years away from work when he was with Pepper. And while he liked the focus on his home life during those years, the lack of the other was a constant irritant. That _other_ was part of him too. Not just something that was demanded of him. The way he’d been with her was no more balanced than when he’d thrown himself completely into his work with Peter. He could do one or the other well. He had never had to do _both._ He’d never _wanted_ to do both. It would take time, but he’d learn. 

He never wanted to be closed off with Peter again. He loved him and — it was probably egotistical put himself into the equation — but he loved _them._ He missed Peter, but he still loved him when they were apart. There was no ‘them’ when they were apart. There was no touching, talking until they fell asleep mid-word, waking up to seek out the other semi-consciously in bed. And sharing the morning together? How had he been living without that for almost nine months? One morning left him feeling like himself again. One morning. Imagine what a lifetime of mornings would feel like? 

Downstairs. FRIDAY brought up the things that Pepper said were of the utmost importance. Almost none of which was. Anything to do with R&D or engineering, he shuffled through. But if it was something that any one of the hundreds of managers Stark had could do, he passed it back to her with FRIDAY’s note attached ‘why isn’t xxxx doing this?’, with FRIDAY filling in the x’s with the appropriate name. Anything that didn’t fit into neat categories, he did what he’d always done: he tossed it into the trash for Pepper to deal with. 

“Fri, what time is it?”

“Eleven thirty, boss.”

“What?” Tony groaned. He could’ve sworn he’d been at it all day. At least more than two and a half hours. Which left the rest of the day stretching out, long and boring, ahead of him. He’d given up losing himself in his work, but neither was he going to spend the day waiting at the door.

He poked at files of half-finished projects and moving them from one screen to the other across his desk. Now that he’d experienced the Mark 50’s suture spray up close and personal courtesy of Blue Meanie, there was always tinkering around with it on the Mark 89. Only he’d wanted to talk to Peter about getting the web formula down to a nanomolecular level to coat the healing wound. 

Unfortunately, one of the things that was still unresolved between them was the whole lab-suit-Tony’s-involvement-with-anything issue. Well, not exactly unresolved. Just kind of… unspecified. Which Tony was fine with, in comparison to the other option. Having Peter in the rest of his life was worth giving him up in this part of it.

But that decision left him sort of… not upset exactly. That passed when Peter decided to stay. He just felt… sort of _flat._

Inertia, probably. Just inertia. Which would only be solved by putting the body at rest into motion. 

Tony got up from his desk and started working out. The endorphin rush was great for coming up with ideas. He needed a _new_ project. He had dozens of old ones that he’d passed from the far left screen to the far right one, but they weren’t enough to dissipate the inertia. He muttered to FRIDAY who sorted everything Tony said into files for when he was ready to look at them. Ninety percent would be utterly useless, another nine would be only marginally better, but hiding in the one percent would be his new project. Meanwhile, before he looked at the files FRIDAY was making… 

Something small. Small… like… dinner. When had he’d last had time to cook for Peter? Since he’d learned how to, he enjoyed doing cooking. (The kid had been right… whenever Tony wanted to do something, he did it. Cooking was a skill. He learned it. Integrating his life was a skill. He’d learn it.) He remembered how much they’d both enjoyed it when he cooked, and then on less busy days, when they’d cook together. That would be a nice thing to get into again. Mornings together. Evenings together. A life outside of the lab together. A life outside of the bedroom together.

~~~~~

By the middle of the afternoon Peter’s almost-high was worn off completely and he was back to only-worrying. And worrying made him irritated at the world again. Irritation brought back The Cold, and that brought back that black feeling of constant worry and/or impending doom. But he didn’t counter that feeling by counting the days until he saw Tony again — he had _seen_ Tony. Tony was at home right now. There was a simple way out of this problem. In the middle of a Differential Equations lecture that was bone-dryingly boring, he shot off the text.

**_Last night was amazing btw._ **

**_It feels like we talked about everything. But we haven’t talked about everything-everything. Not yet. Is there any way we could go to the compound this weekend? Take the special helicopter? There’s some things I want to talk about there._ **

Hitting ‘send’ was like dropping a weight off his shoulders. He sighed in relief and settled back into his seat. Now he had to worry about was not falling asleep in class.

~~~~~

Tony smiled when he heard Peter’s text notification. An absolutely ordinary sound. This was one of the things they’d talked about. Casual texting. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and brought his phone out of his pocket.

**_Yeah. Very Amazing. This morning tho was amazing-er. I could get used to this whole having two scrambled eggs with you thing._ **

Ah. The ‘other things’ that Peter said he wasn’t ready to talk about yet That didn’t come as a surprise to Tony that the tension of the past few days released, it made Peter able to talk about it now. That too was a resolution they’d come to. Listening in person instead of eavesdropping. Of actually finding out what was going on in each other’s life.

The location… that was a _considerably_ less pleasant surprise. 

**_You told me there was more and I do want to hear that everything. everything baby. I wanna listen to whatever you want to tell me. You fascinate me and I love you and this… this is nice. Really nice._ **

**_I suppose we could go there. But we could also talk at home. Where we’re y’know… at home. And not having to deal with New-Cap, his New-Avengers, and New-SHIELD. And have a bit of privacy while we’re talking._ **

Hopefully that will head off _that_ disaster. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the Avengers. He’d rather go down to the twenty-fifth floor and do actual _work._

Last time he’d been there for one of New-Cap’s meetings, the place had been lousy with people. Fury had parked his ass back at HQ and was trying to reconstitute New-SHIELD. Which, okay, the world could use a non-HYDRA SHIELD. 

But the compound was the last place Tony wanted to spend a weekend being open and vulnerable with his boyfriend as he tried to stick to their new plan of being together.

**_Thought we could talk like you want to, stay in, maybe go out, more staying in, probably more talking because I can’t ever shut up, and then more staying in. All weekend. Just us._ **

Maybe that’d be enough of an alternative offer to keep them away from upstate.

**_I’d like some All Weekend Just Us time. Later. The compound is kind of important._ **

Tony sighed. 

~~~~~

Peter came home to something he hadn’t seen in _months,_ Tony fixing dinner. Something casually elaborate that was one of Peter’s favorites. All the ‘normal person’ talk was done. Peter’s day, Tony’s day. It felt a bit… practiced, but wanted. It was something new. There was going to be a lot of ‘new’. Which, given how bad the ‘old’ had gotten, was a good thing.

He talked about the projects he’d been considering. Although carefully avoiding any suit talk, despite him wanting Peter’s help on the 89. But there were enough other things to occupy dinner. Including Tony’s complete, and probably about ninety percent enthusiastic agreement to the weekend plans. Thinking about it as he’d been fixing dinner, since the texts, he’d laid out a plan of attack (more like a plan of retreat) that would work. It meant a weekend with Peter being open with him, so for that, his agreement was enthusiastic. Okay, enthusiastic _for him._

Then, after the dishes were in the dishwasher, Peter took Tony by the hand and led him out of the kitchen.

When he led Tony up to the couch, Peter couldn’t help but grin. _Oh_ , the things that had been said on the couch last night! He wished he could write them all down, record them somewhere so he could remember them forever. Hmmm… would FRIDAY have them on record somewhere? That would make a pleasant project to work on when he was bored at school…

“When this sofa gets worn,” Tony said, keeping hold of Peter’s hands as they sat on it, “I’ll have it fixed before I ever get rid of it, I swear.” Tony smiled tenderly and ran his hand down the outside of Peter’s arm then as he slid it back up, he leaned in for a kiss. Just having Peter there. On that sofa. Sitting next to him. Where last night he’d learned something that he already knew. He knew, but it made a difference hearing it from Peter himself. 

An open-mouthed kiss, brief, broken and restarted by Tony. Met by Peter. Started again by the boy and then met by Tony. But neither taking it deeper. Not yet. Just the slow, eager press of their lips together. Tony settled his hands on Peter’s waist and pulled him across his lap. Moving him broke their lips apart, but Tony kissed the side of Peter’s face, kissed up against his hair, kissed down the line of his jaw, until he found Peter’s lips again. His hands slid over Peter’s shirt, caressing his back, still not being quite able to get over the fact that he’d almost lost this. And that it had been so long, even before that risk, since his hands had known the touch of Peter’s body beneath them.

_‘Soon,’_ Peter’s brain informed him. Soon the sex would begin and that meant Tony would be saying those sweet, incredibly revealing things and Peter? Peter would be lucky if he could get out more than three words. 

_‘You should do something about that,’_ Peter’s brain informed him. _‘Confess to things now, before he gets you naked and moaning. You could probably think of something good right now, if you tried.’_ but Tony’s mouth was already making it very hard to think.


	2. You've Been Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tony,” he said, looking at the vast expanse of the Alaska King they were laying on. “I don’t think this bed is big enough for you, me, and your ego.

But Peter had been thinking all day, hadn’t he? Been thinking about the things they had talked about, and the things Peter still had yet to say. Some of those things Tony might not like, Peter was still worried about that. But  _ some  _ of those things... 

“Tony?” Peter asked breathlessly, pulling his face away enough to speak.

“I love you.” Wait, that wasn’t it. He tried again (but dammit Tony’s  _ hands  _ were making it  _ really  _ hard to think.)

“Iwannatellyousomething” Peter blurted out before Tony’s mouth distracted him again. That worked, but unfortunately it left Tony looking up at him and Peter with nothing to say.

His brain flitted back to the things that had been on his mind that day — The Cold, and how Tony might react when he explained it, and something else.

He decided to go with the Something Else.

(Even though it was  _ really  _ embarrassing.) 

So he ducked his head into Tony’s neck (his favorite hiding place) and whispered it.

“I have a confession to make.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he hadn’t said them.  _ Why  _ talk about it now, when they had discussed it thoroughly (and tenderly!) the night before? 

But dammit, it made him  _ hot  _ to talk about it. And, ah hell maybe…  _ maybe _ Peter had initiated the kissing  _ on the couch _ just in case he did work up the nerve to ask… 

“I only ever lied to you once, Tony. Ever. That first night. You asked and I… I told you I had done  _ ‘it’  _ before. And I hadn’t. Not with… people I mean. Toys don’t count. So that means I lied. That  _ was  _ my first time.” 

“I know baby. I told you, I could read you like an open book.” Tony casually reached around Peter’s waist, sliding his hand up under the hem of his t-shirt, caressing him with a firm touch, with the warmth of his palm. 

“But I’m still mad at myself for not telling you. Because…

“Okay, maybe this is wrong but…”

He blushed furiously and ducked his head. But hiding his face wouldn’t make him understood, so he tried whispering it into Tony’s ear.

“Maybe I… always wondered… what would you have done if I  _ had  _ told you?”

“Wanna find out?” Tony said, playfully leering.

“Oh  _ god.”  _ Peter whimpered, closing his eyes and hiding as best he could in Tony’s shoulder even as he grinned from ear to ear. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach tightened… and his cock immediately stood at attention. “Um…  **_yes.”_ **

“In that case… This has to be in  _ my  _ bed.” He smiled, hoping Peter would catch the inflection. Because while it was  _ their _ bed now, that night it had been his. “I  _ loved  _ carrying you there. Should do it more often. Do what you did that first night. Arms around my neck, legs around my waist.”

When they arrived, Tony didn’t just dump Peter onto his bed, he let him down slowly, kissing him the entire way until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Tony climbed in and wrapped his arms around Peter, gently guiding him to the center of the enormous bed. 

“Baby, I will never get over the way you look right here. We can be together ten years and I’ll never get tired of this sight. But this isn’t about ten years from now. This is about my beautiful virgin who I want to tenderly take apart until he’s screaming from how good it feels.”

Peter giggled and blushed and covered his face with his hands. Oh well — it wasn’t egotism if you really were that good.

“I’ve waited so long to kiss you, Peter.” Not untrue then, not untrue now.

Tony brought their lips together so slowly. His fingers stroked the side of Peter’s face, slid into his hair, with just enough firmness to let him know that he was in the hands of someone who knew what he was doing. In the hands of someone who appreciated what he was being given.

Lips together but not kissing, Tony moved the words across them. “I love you.”

He kissed them into Peter’s mouth, probing softly with his tongue at the line between them. Teasingly light, exploring the boy’s senses, listening to his responses. Learning Peter’s body. For the first time. All over again. It had been so long since they’d made love in this bed, made love like this, it was almost like it  _ was  _ their first time. 

He found the touches with his tongue that made Peter shiver. Too much. He found the ones that made him gasp. The ones that made him moan. The ones that made him pant into Tony’s mouth. That made Peter want more. He waited, deepening the kiss bit by bit, always leaving Peter wanting more.

Tony broke the kiss and stretched out over Peter’s body, holding most of his weight on his elbows and knees, just letting the heat from their skin touch. His hands on either side of Peter’s head when he kissed Peter again, his hands tangled in Peter’s curls, fingers twisting them, playing with them, while he kept his kiss teasing again, not deeper like they had been doing before. He waited again to sense Peter’s need.

Tony used to be so crude in bed. It was all take. Didn’t matter how inexperienced his partner. He didn’t hurt, but neither did he care. It took time for him to learn. To appreciate. To observe the little reactions that a body made. Until making someone have those reactions became almost as good as the finish itself. Maybe moreso. Definitely moreso when it was Peter having them. Tony devoured every sound, every breath, every tiny movement he made — realized and unrealized. Peter’s responses were dialed up to eleven. Then add at least double that because Tony was so hyper-focused on them.

When Peter was ready and not before… when it wasn’t just  _ want  _ but  _ need, _ Tony slipped one hand behind the boy’s neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He lowered a little of his weight onto Peter’s body. Grounding him all along its length. Their kiss never truly broke. Only enough to take half a breath and then resume, it fell into a circular rhythm of a single, endless kiss. Until Tony felt the boy shiver and he noticed a change in the texture of his gasping breath. 

Tony loosened his hand from Peter’s neck and broke their kiss entirely, separating, leaning back to look into the boy’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed, the delicate skin of his face a little irritated from the scrape of his beard, his lips strawberry red from his kiss. And Peter’s breaths were still too fast.

“Baby,” Tony whispered. “Right here baby. Shh. Look at me, Pete. I’m here.” He smiled softly as he felt Peter’s chest moving more steadily. “Beautiful.” Careful not to be too gentle and set off Peter’s senses so soon after he’d just brought them under control.

Peter whimpered, but he obeyed. Looking into Tony’s eyes, he sighed. This was better than he could have imagined. For so many months now Peter had missed the afterplay, that peaceful laying-beside-each-other and talking-all-night time that meant so much to him in the beginning.

Only now did he remember —  **_foreplay_ ** was a wonderful thing, too.

Then Tony started talking and his whole body glowed.

“It’s all right, baby. I have you. You’re safe. You can let go and  _ know _ that I’m going to catch you. Always, Pete. I won’t let you fall. Beautiful, you can let yourself feel  _ all  _ of it. I’ll hold you through it all. Through everything. You’re mine, Peter. That means I’m yours. Every night, but especially  _ this  _ night.”

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. He moaned even as he smiled.  _ This  _ is what he had been asking for, what he had been daydreaming about. Tony always talked during sex, but this? This crooning, this gentling, this was a thing of beauty.

Tony ran his thumb across the boy’s smiling lips. “Has no one ever  _ properly  _ kissed you, Peter? No one but me?” He knew that Peter hadn’t had sex with anyone before him. But this? He hadn’t asked because Peter was so insistent on keeping up his ruse. “Are all your kisses mine, baby?”

Oh well, it had been lovely while it lasted.

Peter kept his eyes closed, so he didn’t roll them. But he couldn’t keep the perturbed look off his face.

He lifted his head and looked above them — okay that WAS the full-head-eye-roll but he tried to disguise it. 

“Tony,” he said, looking at the vast expanse of the Alaska King they were laying on. “I don’t think this bed is big enough for you, me, and your ego.

_ “Of course _ I’ve been kissed before…  **_hello?_ ** And for the record I am  _ not  _ a virgin, I just haven’t done… that… one thing before. With people. Toys don’t count. And if I’ve never been kissed like  _ that  _ before it was because I didn’t want to…”

He stopped short. 

Of course he had never been kissed like that before! He had kissed boys before, but it had always been one quick step on the way to something entirely different. There wasn’t a single person on Earth, or on other planets, that he wanted to kiss for  _ that  _ long. So, really, Tony was right. 

That bastard.

“You’ve been kissed…” Tony put a chaste kiss on Peter’s lips. “Like you kissed your girlfriend at a dance. You’ve been kissed…” He opened his mouth and did a poor example of the typical teenage moray eel kiss. “Like you kissed your first boy, too excited to even  _ think  _ about doing it right. You’ve been kissed…” He shoved his tongue into Peter’s mouth like boys do because they think that kissing is basically tongue fucking. “Like you kissed your first college boy at a party. You’ve been kissed…” That time he did a proper French kiss, not clumsy, but without finesse. “Like you were kissed by your first date who was a couple of years older than you.” 

Tony cupped the back of Peter’s neck again, his fingers tangling into the soft curls at the nape. He brought their lips slowly together, repeating the way he kissed Peter earlier. Making Peter  _ want. _ Letting Peter know how much  _ he  _ wanted as well. Holding it, repeating it, letting it build from kiss to passion to desperation. “Now, baby,  _ you’ve been kissed.” _

Peter turned his head to one side and tried to recover. Both his ability to speak,  _ and  _ his pride. Damn Tony, they were supposed to be recreating their first time together, the first night he had lost  _ that  _ particular v-card. Not to admit he had never been kissed like that before. 

He pushed Tony away by a few inches to increase the space between them, breathing in what air he could find there. 

It didn’t work. He just sighed in frustration (it came out more as a growl) and covered his face with his hands.  He didn’t want Tony (who had done exactly as Peter had asked) to see his forehead crease, but it was creasing now. Dammit,  _ he had asked for this! _ Had fantasized about it for ages! How could he not realize that now, in the moment,  **_his ego_ ** would be getting in the way?

While Peter's face was covered, Tony smirked at the sound the kid made at having been proven wrong. Tony _did_ have all of Peter's kisses.

Peter had moved them apart just enough for Tony to slide his hands along the hem of Peter’s shirt. His hands worked underneath the soft fabric. Palms flat, warm and firm, he moved them up, one along Peter’s back, the other caressing his stomach. As they rose, his forearms lifted the boy’s shirt. Tony pushed higher in the back, dragging Peter’s t-shirt up over his head, then down his arms and off. 

Peter moved his hands away from his face to let Tony have his way (besides Tony was doing that thing to his stomach which certainly took his mind off anything else. It always made him melt when Tony touched him there — WAIT did he do that on purpose? That bastard.)

“Peter, you are  _ beyond  _ beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss from the crook of the boy’s neck, down his shoulder, onto his chest until he came to the center of it. “Look at you. You take my breath away.” Tony lifted Peter’s arms until they settled lightly around his neck. His hand trailed from his lips on the boy’s chest, down to the button of his jeans. “I need to see all of you. Every bit of you is perfect. And you’re giving all of  _ you _ to me, aren’t you baby.” 

Too breathless to speak, Peter only nodded in assent. His injured pride wasn’t hard to ignore if Tony kept talking like  _ that. _


	3. ButfortherecordIamnotavirgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So here we are, and I…” He took Tony by the waist with two firm hands. “I have something to… oh god this sounds stupid but… I have something to give you too. And only to you.”

Tony circled one arm around Peter’s waist, holding him steady as he slid the zipper of his jeans down. He cupped Peter’s ass and lifted him slightly. “Hold with your arms, Pete. Like when I carried you here.” Peter held his neck firmly, Tony cupped the boy’s ass and his hands worked up to the waistband of his jeans and his underwear. He slid his hands between fabric and skin. As his hands moved lower, to cup Peter’s ass again, they took his clothes with them, revealing more as Tony’s hands moved all the way down to the top of his thighs.

“Lift higher, baby,” Tony whispered against Peter’s neck. When he raised himself, Tony pushed Peter’s jeans down in the front. He settled his hand low on Peter’s stomach. Pulling his lips away from the warmth of Peter’s neck, he looked at the boy and smiled. “Gotta help me from here. You’re the graceful one with the long beautiful legs.”

Oh god, this was incredible. And having an unexpected effect — slow and gentle meant Peter’s senses were dialing up (when the sex was hard and fast always dialed them  _ down, _ out of self-preservation.) It hadn’t happened very often since their earliest days together, but  _ Christ  _ it was happening now.

And that might not be a good thing. Pushing Tony away a bit helped. At least a little. Feigning the need for distance to get himself undressed, he wriggled his body free enough to shed belt, jeans and boxers all in one motion. Not quickly, though, he needed time to breathe, trying to ground himself a little. Turning his back a bit to Tony he tried to regain a little composure.

“So, for the record?  _ Not  _ a virgin. I’ve done it to other guys before. Just not… and I am  _ not saying  _ that I was holding out for you!” Peter argued. “Because that would have been too optimistic, too far-fetched. I never really thought that we would… so I wasn’t really holding out for… except…”

He turned his head to look at Tony in surprise.

“Except I think I was.”

He had to let go of his pants suddenly because he had to hide behind his hands again. He was grimacing and blushing and grinning at the absurdity of it all at the same time.

“I think I was,” he whispered as quietly as he could. Maybe, if he whispered, his pride wouldn’t hear it. He reached for Tony and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I think I  _ was  _ saving it for you.

“ButfortherecordIamnotavirgin,” he said quickly as he lay on his back. One last, final salute to his injured pride.

Tony looked at Peter, watching him catch his breath, listening to his protests of his non-virginity. 

“You‘re not a virgin.” Tony struggled to keep his lips from quirking up. "You’ve just never ‘done that one thing’. And it’s all  _ my ego _ thinking that you’re a virgin, despite the fact that you  _ very much are. _ Toys don’t count. Giving head doesn’t count either. Nor does fucking another boy. Because this…” Tony let one hand slide down Peter’s side until he was caressing the inside of his thigh, moving up to the crease of his ass. Going no further. “…isn’t something you’re in control of. No, I don’t mean that I’m in control, either. Your  _ body  _ is in control. And the rest of you? Not having that control? Baby, this is an  _ entirely  _ different thing than any of those other things you’ve done to proclaim your non-virginity.

“You had no idea who you were holding out for to do ‘that one thing’. You  _ never thought.  _ But you  _ did  _ think. You knew. You  _ always  _ knew  _ exactly  _ who you were holding out for. You knew exactly who you wanted to be the ‘first’.  _ And only. _ Because you’ve known me long enough to know that I would never share you. But you  _ held out  _ even knowing that.  _ My  _ virgin. Because that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

Peter’s eyes went wide.

“…oh…” he said, breathless. 

“That’s… that’s different. You could call me your… yes.” He closed his eyes again. He would never say it out loud, of course. Coming from his own mouth it sounded wrong. But coming out of Tony’s mouth? It sounded incredible.

He grinned from ear to ear. Even with his eyes closed, he wanted to duck his head.

“All right then,” he said wrapping his hands around Tony’s neck. He tried to take a steadying breath, failed, and tried again. The third time it worked and, when he felt calmer, he leaned up to whisper in his lover’s ear. “If I am your… your  _ virgin…  _ what are you going to do with me?”

Tony’s hum of assent to Peter’s calling himself  _ his  _ virgin had more than a little self-satisfied smugness about it. Oh but then he was presented with a much more pleasant question. What was he going to  _ do _ with Peter? 

“Touch you.” Tony ran his hand lightly down Peter’s arm. Firmly back up it. His fingers traced the line of his collarbone. He ran his hand flatly, sliding between them, over Peter’s chest, his thumb catching over Peter’s nipple, circling it. He caressed down to Peter’s thigh, finding his way to the inside of it again. He spread the boy’s legs further apart, settling between them. 

“Kiss you.” He put a light kiss on Peter’s lips. “Because I don’t think I will ever get enough of kissing you.” He kept his next kiss brief, but passionate. 

“And watch…” The hand on Peter’s thigh moved up, his touch became more solid. He raised his leg to bend at the knee. Tony paused, letting his fingers explore the line between thigh and swell of the boy’s ass. But this time he didn’t stop there. He slid his hands beneath Peter’s ass, curling his fingers to ease his cheeks apart and brush against the tender skin there. “…Watch you… unfold in my hands.” He bent and held himself above Peter’s body.

Another kiss. Words whispered against soft lips. “I want to find everything that makes you moan. I want to find everything that makes you  _ want. _ Everything that makes you  _ need.” _

“But what I need most is  **_you,_ ** Tony,” Peter moaned, kissing back hard. For a moment his mind strayed back to those long, lonely weeks when he missed the man, halfway around the world. Missed him, feeling achy and forgotten. But he didn’t want to think about that  _ now. _

“What I wanted most,” he said breathlessly, in-between kisses, “Is for you to look at me like a man, someone old enough to be your lover. To take me to bed. To let me stay there.” It wasn’t easy, making this particular point understood, but Peter found that when he ran out of words he could just kiss Tony again. (Tony liked it when he took over the kissing.) “And the truth is…” Another kiss. “That when I set out to convince you to take me to your bedroom? I  _ did not care what you wanted to do to me next.  _ Whatever kind of sex you wanted,  _ whatever  _ you decided that was, that’s what I wanted too. I just wanted to  **_be_ ** _ with you.” _

“You have me, Peter. Every part of me has your name etched into it. I promise you…  _ promise you… _ that I won’t let anything come between us now that we’re finally together.” He kissed Peter again and moved his hand, settling it on the boy’s thigh, feeling that dichotomous touch of soft skin and firm muscle beneath it. 

“That’s why I waited, Pete. I wanted you so much. You were a beautiful boy. But a boy. I didn’t want someone with a teenage crush in my bed. Someone who looked at me… without being able to see  _ me. _ I didn’t want a boy in my bed, I wanted a young man.” Tony smiled softly. “Part of the deciding factor? When you stopped calling me Mr. Stark and  _ always  _ called me Tony. I can’t be your hero to worship. Only to fight alongside of. That you saved yourself for… that you wanted it to be  _ me?” _ he shook his head slightly in disbelief. 

“I do have my favorite things to do when we’re together, but I like exploring things with you. I like… being there for the journey. Yeah, I would’ve been… if this hadn’t been part of it? Ah, I sound like such a greedy fuck… but god, Peter… I wanted to take you apart. I wanted to watch you fall to pieces.

“Now that you’re in my bed? Baby, I’m not ever letting you out of it. You’re mine.” His kiss was less tender, much more possessive. “My virgin,” he said when he broke their kiss. “Even if it’s been years, you’ll still be my virgin. No matter what we’re doing in bed… baby… I love you.” Tony closed his eyes and bit his lip before kissing Peter again. “I  _ cherish  _ you,” he whispered his words against Peter’s lips before kissing them there.

“Oh god Tony, I love you so much,” Peter whispered. He didn’t say anything, then, for a long time. He let Tony finish kissing him. 

He enjoyed it.

“This is better than that first time, though,” Peter pointed out, when Tony was finished. “Because now I’m not worried about saying “I love you” accidentally.

“And, for the record, even if I  _ hadn’t  _ been madly in love with you? I still wanted it to be you. For about a million different reasons. Being your partner in the lab, and being your partner in the skies of New York? Well, I  _ knew  _ being your partner in bed would be amazing too.

“But I  _ was  _ madly in love with you, that’s why I mostly just spent all my time saying ‘Oh God Tony’ over and over and over.

“But here I am in your bed,” Peter said, pulling his arms away from Tony’s neck, sneaking them under Tony’s arms and moving his hands to Tony’s waist. “I  _ am  _ in love with you, and I’m not afraid to say it, and I  _ want you _ like crazy, and I’m not afraid to say that either. 

“So here we are, and I…” He took Tony by the waist with two firm hands. “I have something to… oh  _ god  _ this sounds stupid but… I have something to  _ give  _ you, too. And only to you.” He pulled Tony closer, pressing their bodies together to make his meaning clear.

“I want you to be the first one.

“I want you to be the  _ only  _ one.”

Tony kissed Peter hard, devouring his words, taking them into himself, letting them chase away any of his lingering fears. Everything was released on a sigh of the boy’s name.

“Peter… you…  _ overwhelm  _ me. When we kissed for the first time? Pete… things that took  _ over a decade _ with anyone else… One kiss, baby… you  _ wrecked  _ me. You could only say ‘oh god Tony’ and I couldn’t shut up. Not just my usual endless talking…  _ everything  _ spilled out. Baby, things… I didn’t even know… 

“Peter… You’re  _ my  _ first one. My  _ only  _ one.”

Peter moaned and sighed and wrapped Tony tightly in his arms. Then he remembered that his lover could be held too  _ tightly  _ and loosened his hold. A bit. But for a few silent moments he held, keeping his lover close.

When Peter finally let him go, he kissed him again, more tenderly. “You wanted me to stay touching you. And when I moved away, I missed you.” Tony reached underneath the usual extra pillow where he kept the lube, then he gently rolled them both on their sides, face to face. “I can touch you better,” he said smiling. He put the bottle within close reach. Then he ran his hand up Peter’s back. “I think you still like it better we’re touching more. You feel beautiful. You make my fingers hungry for your skin.” His hand moved down to cup Peter’s ass before he moved down to his thigh. Tony raised Peter’s leg over his, crooking it over his hip.

“Baby, I told you I want the  _ everything  _ of you. I meant  _ everything. _ In bed and out. I want you in every part of my life. Though some parts are more…” He smiled and kissed Peter’s cheek. Kissed his jaw. Kissed his neck. “…currently relevant,” he said, dragging his open mouth along Peter’s neck. “God, I’d almost forgotten how your skin _ tastes.”  _ As he kissed and nibbled at the boy’s neck, his hand worked its way up the inside of Peter’s thigh, fingers moving across where the position spread him wider, running from the base of his spine to his balls, only lightly brushing across his opening.

He took his  **_time._ ** He didn’t care if he missed whatever meeting he had in the morning. He didn’t care if Peter missed every one of his classes the next day. Tony wasn’t going to hurry. Touching… he missed that.


	4. Kiss Me, Pete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Tony was doing with his tongue and his fingers was making Peter a little dizzy. Damn he should have asked for this sooner — this was incredible.

When Tony stroked Peter again, it was with more pressure below his rim, around it, alongside it, but still only lightly brushing it with just one fingertip, casually, as if in passing. He was… it was hard to describe the hundreds of little reactions he was waiting to hear or to feel or to see. He only knew that during those first three months, he’d spent so much of them learning Peter’s body. His fingers remembered. He remembered. And he watched for them.

When he heard Peter’s breath quicken, when he felt the skin of his neck flush, when he felt his hips move, when he saw those beautiful honey eyes drift… caught between thought and sensation… He brought his finger to tease more directly. He stopped and reached for the bottle of lube. Draping his arm over Peter’s waist, he opened it and used his other hand to coat his rough fingers. No longer rough, he returned to touch Peter in such a sensitive place. 

“Kiss me, Pete,” Tony asked softly. “Touch me while I touch you.”

Peter obeyed. He sighed in contentment when Tony’s hands started moving behind his back, unseen. He had been sexually active for two years — had been with Tony for a full year — he was far too mature to expect the lube to appear like a magic trick.

But dammit, he  _ did  _ appreciate it when Tony made it appear like a magic trick.

Tony was confessing things, important things, things he needed to remember. Peter closed his eyes and floated on sensation, trying to remember those words.

Although some words he wanted to ask questions about — Tony had told him ‘I missed you’ the first time they had parted in bed, but Peter had accepted that as a tender expression, like assuring a young child that Santa was still coming. Was it actually true? And did Tony  _ still _ like that touching? Peter had learned to let Tony go early on. Letting go for a while was part of sex. But in any case, he wasn’t going to complain about it now. Besides, the way Tony was taking time with his fingers — OH yes. This is exactly what Peter wanted.

Tony asked for a kiss, and he willingly complied, closing the space between then and pressing their mouths together. It was hard to STOP kissing Tony, hard to not slam their mouths together every time Tony said something incredible. But this was the kind of talking Peter had missed so much. Interrupting the man while he was making these kinds of confessions seemed counterproductive.

Then he smiled against Tony’s mouth. Tony had said ‘kiss me’. Did ‘kiss me’ mean something else?

He only had one hand available, and he used it to cup Tony’s face, to keep it in one place. Pressing their lips together he darted his tongue out, only for an instant, to touch Tony’s mouth. The second time, to slip between his lips. The third time to be bold, just for an instant, to touch behind the back of his teeth. 

He knew Tony liked that.

But when he started to repeat the process he realized something — Tony’s fingers. They were doing very lovely things to him, which was normal. But he was supposed to be pretending they were doing lovely things  _ for the first time. _

Peter turned his head away and let his breath catch.

“OhthatfeelsgoodTony” he breathed. And it did.

But there was something else he was supposed to be doing. He pressed his lips together, tried to take a deep breath, and spoke.

“I’ve done that before… that feels good. I mean I did it to myself…” He blushed and ducked his head.  _ That  _ wasn’t an act. He hoped Tony liked it, because it came VERY easy.

Tony ducked his head down on a level with Peter’s. Nuzzling at his face, he coaxed the boy to look up at him. Then he took over the kiss. He pressed the pad of his fingertip against Peter’s opening, parting it just a little, circling the rim, pressing again when he deepened his kiss. Circling again as his tongue teased the edges of Peter’s lips. His finger pressed in again, to the first knuckle as his tongue darted back into Peter’s mouth. He pulled back to speak and his finger pulled back too, just the pad of it, circling and spreading Peter’s rim as he spoke.

“Doing it to yourself… I figured you’d done that,” Tony said smiling. “Curious boys get up to curious things in their twin beds while staring longingly at the Iron Man poster on their wall.”

"Stop!" Peter giggled but then Tony kissed him again.

Tony slid his finger in deeper while his second finger pressed along the margin between his opening and the crease just before the rise of Peter’s ass. Pressing his finger that way caused Peter to open a little more, and his first finger found its way all the way inside.

“You feel so good, Pete. Hot. Smooth with the lube’s slickness. Tight muscles…,” Tony gave a self-confident smile, “pulling me in, wanting more. You’re so tight, I gotta loosen you up baby, before I give you that  _ more  _ you want.”

He twisted his wrist, turning the finger inside Peter, causing the one outside him to press along his rim, tugging him gently open. Waiting to get the response he was looking for. He couldn’t describe how he knew. Or what it was he was looking for. He just  _ knew. _ And he waited for it. Oh,  _ there  _ was the slight arch to Peter’s spine, pushing, wanting his one finger deeper than it could go. There was the way Peter’s eyes closed… not just that they did, but the  _ way  _ they did. His breath… not yet panting or hitching or any of the things that would come later… just a tiny little bit… broken. So many other things… But when he felt Peter’s opening loosen, his second finger joined the first, slowly but entirely. Then, Peter had a tiny bit of the more he was seeking.

Peter grinned even as Tony was kissing him, still imagining Tony seeing through the paper eyes of a certain Iron Man poster. But it was beautiful, knowing this man knew his secrets so intimately. He had been longing for this man since the moment he knew how to long for things.

What Tony was doing with his tongue and his fingers was making Peter a little dizzy.  _ Damn  _ he should have asked for this sooner — this was incredible.

He snuck one hand up to Tony’s face and cupped it there, but otherwise did nothing but enjoy, and let Tony watch him enjoy.

There was no way, of course, to recreate the nerves, let alone the fear, he had felt their first time. To enjoy what the fingers were doing  _ and  _ feel apprehensive about what had to come next. To remember that  _ all  _ penetration was obligation for something else, something he might not enjoy.  _ That  _ Peter was too far away now.  _ This  _ Peter already knew what was coming and how much he was going to enjoy it.

Of course, he could always try.

“Tony,” he whispered, sneaking the hand that was cupping Tony’s face down the man’s chest, then lower.

“Are you very big?”

Tony bit back his laughter. Successfully. The only thing escaping was the turned up of the corners of his mouth. “Baby, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s not going to hurt, I promise you that,  _ my virgin. _

“I’ve been told it’s big, but everything’s relative. I’ve known bigger. Known smaller. But I haven’t had anyone complain that it’s  _ too small. _

“I only know that I’ve never hurt anyone before, and I’d sooner die than hurt you Peter. I’m going to take my time.” He smiled softly.  _ “Because it’s you.” _ He kissed Peter deeply, moving his two fingers slowly in and out of him. “I’ve waited so long for you.” 

Tony let his kiss show his want, his need, his desire. He claimed Peter’s mouth. His fingers tenderly moved within. His hand, crooked from under Peter’s neck, spread flat-palmed between the boy’s shoulders, touched only firm enough to ground. His body knew self-restraint. But his kiss… his kiss was  _ lost  _ to that concept. His kiss  _ took. _

“Every single moment… our first time together… etched so deep in my core memory that it will never fade.” As Tony spoke, his hand rocked, his third fingertip pressed along the boy’s rim, easing him wider, waiting again. He didn’t have to wait long. When he had both fingers nearly out of Peter, he moved his third underneath them and when he pushed in, it was all three. He moved them deeper slowly, as his wrist twisted, keeping his pressure even around his opening.

“That look… right there… god Pete… so beautiful. Your lips  _ wrecked  _ by my kiss. Your mouth baby,” he crooked his fingers, sliding them lightly across Peter’s prostate, “falling open when you gasp like that. Your skin… pale… flushed so pink. Your eyes… those long lashes hiding them from me…  _ Perfect.”  _

He changed his fingers’ movements. Sometimes thrusting, sometimes pressing just enough to make Peter gasp. Always in a broken pattern, leaving the boy not knowing which would happen next. He lightly kissed Peter’s bottom lip. He wrested a groan from him when Peter, lips just barely parted, kissed him back, just as lightly. He closed his eyes and tried to take a steadying breath. It didn’t help. There wasn’t any hiding the shudder that worked its way through his body.

Tony leaned away just enough to watch Peter’s face. The hand he had on Peter’s back threaded through his hair. “Open your eyes, beautiful,” he murmured. It took the boy a while, but he waited until Peter did. “Are you mine, Pete?”

Peter floated on the words. Tony could say the loveliest things, things Peter should remember and unpack later. Like being called ‘my virgin’ and how it made him blush so furiously and how  _ desperately  _ he did  **_not_ ** want to be blushing right now, but now Tony was complimenting his pink flush… so that was a  _ good  _ thing then? But now Tony was asking something easy, something Peter could answer right away.

“Oh yes, Tony, yes.”

Tony was making him crazy with his fingers alone (but Peter could still get a reaction by kissing him, that was something) and Peter was beginning to wonder if he was going to come from those fingers alone (well, that  _ would  _ be a virgin thing to do.) But now Tony was demanding he open his eyes (he liked that, he liked that a lot) so he tried to keep them open while he spoke.

“I  _ like  _ being yours.”

This was incredible — he would ask for this sex-act again, now that he realized it was a sex-act he  _ could  _ ask for. Being taken apart, gently, by Tony’s fingers. Good lord, if Tony used his mouth on him  _ now, _ he’d come in an instant.

Still, he had another task in mind so he reached his hand down, as he originally intended, and wrapped it around Tony’s cock.

He was delighted to find how hard it already was.

But he did NOT comment on THAT. Instead he just said “Oh, Tony, you’re really thick. And long. You’re a lot bigger than all my toys.”

He let his fingers explore Tony’s (well known) length, and then moaned. “Oh  _ god. _

“I should have invested in longer toys.”

“Toys, huh?” Tony quirked his lips in a smile. “Naughty little boy,” he teased. “You’ll have to show me and then we can go to my favorite website and pick out some new ones for you.” He knew the reaction that would cause. Almost a year later and he  _ still  _ hadn’t seen Peter’s secretive box of toys. 

Once Peter’s embarrassment passed, he brought him in for another kiss, his fingers still playing lightly in his hair. “I’m glad you didn’t have bigger toys, baby,” he purred. “I don’t just get to make  _ you  _ mine, I get to make  _ your body _ mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. I’d Be Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gonna see how many times…” He didn’t stroke the boy’s cock exactly, just let the heat of his hand press down against it and he felt it slowly start to rise, “the combination of teenage hormones and that super-spider-bite, can make you come.”

Tony worked his three fingers in Peter, spreading them wider, using light pressure over sensitive places, rocking his wrist to open him wide.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice was love-song tender. “What have you been dreaming of… for how long?… tell me how it made you feel to imagine this… my fingers moving in you…” His hand moved as he eased Peter onto his back, following until he was on top of the boy, covering him with his body. “How did you imagine it would feel for me to be on top of you… knowing that I’ll be inside you… taking what you saved yourself so long for… waited to give to me… _only_ to me.”

“For so long, oh, for too long, I don’t want to tell you…”

Peter moaned and hid in Tony’s neck.

And he could be safe there, he knew that. But Tony had said many things to him recently, many things, private things, and right now, Peter wanted to return the favor. So, from the safety of Tony’s neck, he spoke.

“Almost as long as I can remember, from when I knew how to make myself… come… I dreamed that you’d be there. I knew your arms would be safe and you’d be warm and solid. That’d you’d be there to tell me everything would be all right, and answer my questions, even before I knew what my questions were. I knew I’d have a lot, and I knew you’d be the person to ask. I’ve wanted you for _too_ long.

“But this…” He closed his eyes tight and tried to understand what Tony was asking him, tried to puzzle out how he could possibly describe _this_ in a way that made any sense at all, let alone sounded romantic.

That was a Herculean task, far beyond his skill set. So he tried just telling the simple truth.

“I didn’t know _what_ to imagine. I just knew whatever it felt like, you’d be _with me,_ your arms would be there, and I’d be in them. I thought it _had_ to hurt, but whatever happened you’d be there, _we’d_ be there, and we’d be there together. Your arms would be strong around me and you’d be close and I’d be safe.”

Much as he was trying to recreate Peter’s first time and make everything about him, the way it should’ve been. Peter… god… sometimes what the kid said just _broke_ him. His breath caught and he tried to hide the groan. And failed.

“And I knew… that you’d know how hard I was, and you’d tell me that it was all right. And I dreamed that you’d… know when I came… that you’d be glad that I came. That’d you hold me… after.

“But that’s when I was really young and I didn’t know much. When I got older and found pictures online I thought… well you would be into things and really know what kind of sex you wanted and I… just hoped… I could keep up. So that you’d want to do it again.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry you thought it would hurt. Porn… isn’t a good source for sex ed. Though I’m sure your sex ed class didn’t cover this…” Tony crooked his fingers upwards and spread them wide, kissing the gasp from Peter’s mouth.

“I hoped you’d feel like that. Safe. I know you’re stronger than me, Pete. But I always want to be the one to keep you safe. There are so many other ways to be hurt…” His kiss was light, and his eyes were closed. “I don’t want any of them to ever touch you, baby.” He opened his eyes again. “I want to be here for you, always.” When he spoke, his fingers did nothing but slowly move in and out.

“Okay…” Peter turned his head and tried to clear his head as best he could. He remembered this line of conversation from their first time together, and remembered that he had wanted clarification. “WHAT does that mean?” he asked. Partially from curiosity, partially as a ruse. If Tony was talking he wasn’t kissing, and if he wasn’t kissing, and if he wasn’t kissing, Peter could dial his senses back down to a reasonable level.

He could try, at least.

“Oh baby. So many ways for _this…_ for a lover…” He sighed. “There’s physical hurt… that’s over in the blink of an eye.” Tony’s eyes closed longer than a blink. He opened them slowly. “Other hurt… there’s an almost endless variety. Hurt that twists in your mind. Stays there and won’t let go. Dark words said that become part of your identity. Things said in loving trust, betrayed. Tender things made cruel. Hurt that leaves your _soul_ in pieces. A lover can be gentle in bed and still hurt you almost beyond healing.” He leaned his head over and pressed it against the side of Peter’s while he was buried in his neck. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Oh, Tony.”

Tony took a deep steadying breath. Memories didn’t matter anymore. Peter was the only one there, and he had asked a question.

“Into things… with you?” Tony kissed Peter’s hair. “I had a few ideas. We’re gonna be celebrating our tenth and still not hit the bottom of the list of things I imagined we’d do together. Baby, they’ll all be new memories for you… for me… I want to overwrite every one of mine with nothing but you. You’re who I dreamed of before I even knew you existed. Strong, beautiful, brilliant, my equal, able to stand up to me… all of that, but still… be _mine._

“I want you so much, Pete. I don’t wanna just _not hurt_ you, baby. I wanna make you feel good.”

He focused more on what his fingers were doing. Faster, deeper, spread as wide as they could as he stretched Peter’s rim. He kept them… not curled upward… just… gently stroking across his prostate. He would never get tired of watching Peter respond. Knowing that it was him who made _him_ do it.

It was always a difficult move, but Peter was enjoying the benefit of Tony’s experience. The others? Just practice so that he could make this good for Peter. He shifted his hips, aligning his cock to drag along Peter’s perineum until he was pressed against his fingers. He slid them out as he pushed the head of his cock inside.

“I love you, Peter. That’s it, baby. I wanna feel you open for me, so slow.” He stretched out over Peter’s body, keeping him warm, keeping him safe, keeping him close.

Peter’s eyes went wide when he realized this was happening now, and he hadn’t really answered Tony’s — very polite — question.

“Okay! So…” he said, _trying_ to breathe, trying to keep his voice from getting so squeaky, failing. “So I guess… I imagined you on top of me, and me… facing the other way, face to the bed. But really, that’s because I knew I’d be shy.

“But I also imagined it just like… this? With you like this? Face to face… but I’m not sure…”

He stretched his legs out to both sides. He _never_ would have been bold enough to do that the first time they were together, but he didn’t know any other way to make his point. He looked down at one of his legs, now stretched away from Tony’s body.

“I’m not sure exactly how this works.”

Tony held himself barely a few inches away but close enough that Peter could feel him moving up along the length of his body as he rocked slowly inside. “You feel good all hard against me.” He pulled himself up further and whispered in his ear. “It’s all right, baby.” He put a light kiss on the sensitive spot behind Peter’s ear. “When you’re hard, I know that you want me; I know that I’m making you feel good.”

Tony reached back and took Peter’s ankle in his hand. What he was doing was different from their _actual_ first time. He wanted it to be as close as it could be. But there were things that had been said tonight, different from that first time. And there were things he _needed._ He brought his ankle up and bent his leg around his waist. “Both legs. _Hold onto me.”_

This Peter followed Tony’s directions far more willingly than Virgin Peter ever could. The first time, he remembered, he had been alarmed at the idea of opening up that way. But tonight? There was no real way to pretend that this _wouldn’t_ end with both legs wrapped desperately around Tony’s waist before it was all over. So Peter complied.

He _tried_ pulling his face out of Tony’s neck, tried to keep looking forward — but keeping his eyes open was almost impossible! His whole body was flooding with sensation. Just the friction of Tony’s body against his erection was making him crazy.

“Like this?” he managed before clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. In between Tony’s cock pressing into him and Tony’s body rubbing against his cock he was going to come at any second.

“That’s it baby. Feel how it puts you?” Peter looking up at him briefly before hiding his eyes was beautiful. Open was nice, but closed was nice too. The way his lashes fluttered on his cheeks, the soft skin of his eyelids.

“You’re so tight, Pete. So tight. I…” It sounded almost silly in his head, but the meaning was right. “Gonna make your body over to fit me. Make you know… here… deep inside your heat… know who you belong to. Reshape you to be _only mine._

“Baby, you’re hard… pressing up against me… straining from it… god… this is what…” I’ve missed for _years._ And now…? “I want it to be you… to feel _you.”_ He looked up at Peter’s face. All those spidey-senses tingling. He saw a fine sheen of sweat over his chest. The soft hairs on his body creep upward.

“I want to feel you come. Wanna feel you make us messy.” He put a kiss in the center of Peter’s unmarred chest and his tongue tasted. “Gonna make you come _so much_ tonight.”

Peter hissed and keened and gaped, all in quick succession. Ah god he hadn’t managed to dial his sense down _at all,_ and now… Something deep inside him, maybe instinct, maybe out-of-game knowledge, made him do something he never would have dared their first time together, but dammit Tony was practically asking him to come. And in this state? Peter couldn’t disobey. Wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist he canted his hips up at an angle, desperate to press his straining erection closer to the friction that he needed to…

He shouted loudly and then groaned in embarrassment as he came.

Tony tried to watch the rapid change of expressions on Peter’s face. But the _sounds…_ and the way he tightened and clenched around him as he came… watching _anything_ was beyond him.

He was pulled up — and deeper! — by Peter. “I love how strong you are. And how much in control of that strength you are. Even when you’re completely _gone.”_

Up higher, he could kiss him, and he did. Peter gasped into his mouth, moaned against his lips, cried out his pleasure as Tony nipped his swollen bottom lip and then soothed it with his tongue.

He took his other hand, separating their bodies just enough to snake it in between them, and swipe two fingers through Peter’s come. He brought them out, doing nothing to clean the mess that had been spread across their bodies when Peter moved him up. It marked them both. Tony waited for Peter’s eyes to flutter open, still not entirely focused, to put his fingers in his mouth. He took them out and licked at them. “Baby, you came for me.”

Peter whimpered as he watched Tony suck and lick his fingers clean. Tony slipped his hand between them again, resting his palm over Peter’s shaft, feeling him soften beneath it. “Haven’t even…,” his smirk was annoyingly confident, but gentled by the look in his eyes, “started fucking you yet.

“Gonna see how many times…” He didn’t stroke the boy’s cock exactly, just let the heat of his hand press down against it and he felt it slowly start to rise, “the combination of teenage hormones and that super-spider-bite, can make you come.”

He dragged his lips, open mouthed, slowly, along Peter’s jaw. He licked at the hinge of it, tasting its angularity. “Probably gonna make you messy one more time,” he murmured in Peter’s ear. “Gonna come on my cock. I’m gonna come inside you and make you mine, baby.” He paused and kissed the side of Peter’s face. “But you’re gonna make me yours.”

Peter could only whimper in response. This wasn’t at all how he had pictured it, oh no, not at all. Tony’s crooning had dialed up his senses beyond his control, making every part of his body more sensitive, making him come like…

…well, like a virgin, he supposed.


	6. Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony could taste his skin against his lips. Sweat salty over sweetness, like a piece of fruit on the right side of being almost overripe. And something else. Light. Warm and pure, even though the innocent boy was long gone, there was something inside Peter that was incorruptible. Something Tony craved as a complement to his own nature.

Oh well, he was messy as all hell. Peter knew that made Tony happy.

He hoped Tony would keep talking. He was far beyond speech. Even his whimpers weren’t even audible anymore. 

Tony nearly pulled out. He held himself there. Peter was so completely relaxed, there was no resistance when he thrust in, slowly parting him, letting him feel every bit of his body being made to fit him. Once in as deep as he could, he rolled his hips and repeated it once more, pulling out all the way that time. Peter gasped at the sensation. 

Every sound made Tony want to bring more from him. Wanted to learn every one, every variation. Tony rocked gently, faster, steadily, evenly, so that Peter’s senses could expect it, even if he didn’t realize it. 

“Baby, you’re beautiful.” He kissed Peter’s neck, licking and sucking, even though he knew the boy couldn’t be bruised. He could still feel it. Tony could taste his skin against his lips. Sweat salty over sweetness, like a piece of fruit on the right side of being almost overripe. And something else. Light. Warm and pure, even though the innocent boy was long gone, there was something inside Peter that was incorruptible. Something Tony craved as a complement to his own nature. A bright star orbiting a dark one, while the dark stood steady and firm and always safely there, no matter how far the light strayed afield.

“Baby,” Tony said, soft and low, still in awe of his revelation. “Look at me, baby.”

Peter forced his eyes open to look into Tony’s face. 

He tried to speak. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth, closed his eyes, and tried again.

Oh _god_ , he had miscalculated — so very, very badly.

Coming that hard and that fast had NOT been in the plan. Not that Tony minded, obviously, but for Peter it was impractical and self-defeating. The _point_ of acting out this fantasywas to concentrate on Tony’s _entry_. The point had been to act out what Tony would say to him _if_ he panicked and expressed his fears. But coming his brains out made panic impossible. Also speech. Also thought. Which meant Peter was reduced to limply moaning and riding this incredible wave of pleasure, but unable to interact with this dream-come-true.

And trying to dial it all down was pointless. He could dial down his senses in the field when he needed to — but usually AFTER the battle was over and this battle was, well, damn… There was no use now. Maybe if Tony got up and left him alone for a while, but with Tony on top of him? Inside him? His brain was completely fried. He couldn’t speak. He might never speak again.

“It’s okay, baby.” Tony said, knowing that Peter needed something. And he _needed_ to be that something. 

“I need you Peter,” he admitted. He wrapped his arms underneath Peter and pulled him close as he groaned into his neck. “Everything you are.” 

He leaned up and looked into Peter’s face. “I want to be…” How to put into words another person, even a person as special as the boy in his arms, could understand? “I want to be your ground. I need to be…” _Tony, keep some things to yourself. Don’t be too… weird. Be_ normal. _You just got the kid back. Don’t freak him out. Oh fuck it._ “I _need_ to be your home, baby.”

It happened. Just like the first time, Tony _said_ something that brought Peter back completely.

“Oh yes, oh yes Tony, please,” he breathed, turning and kissing Tony full on the mouth. Oh god, he _needed_ a ground right now, _needed_ one badly. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and held on tight, a little too tight (he could do that in very short doses) and tried to hold back tears.

“Yes, you are my ground, Tony. Oh _fuck_ Tony, I love you so fucking much.”

Tony watched Peter struggle with his senses. He knew he should let up, give the kid time to adjust. But he didn’t want him to adjust. Not yet. He _wanted_ — it was entirely selfish — and wasn’t that what got him into trouble on Peter’s _first_ first time? He wanted it to be him, to be his voice, his words, his _presence,_ that brought him back from the edge. If it couldn’t be… he wasn’t sure he wanted him to come back from it. It was selfish. Egotistical. Possessive. Demanding. Unreasonable.

But so much of what had been said over the past few days was frightening. Not just the thought that Peter was leaving him… but the thought that he might not have a place in Peter’s new world. That they might not make the transition to being equals in love with each other, still mean something to each other, still need each other.

When the turn came… Tony very nearly broke. Feeling Peter hold on to him… right on the edge of _too_ tight… finding a new place for him… a new place for them both. The way they were… it wasn’t a sustainable trajectory. It was destined for a rapid orbital decay. The stars would crash together and implode. Or they would spin each other off into the cold, lonely void of space. But this… the larger mass holding the smaller… the orbit could wobble, allowing the smaller freedom of movement, but it would never achieve escape velocity. The bright star would always return to its place circling the dark. The rate of their orbital decay was so slow, they would outlive it many, many times over.

Peter’s wild, straying senses found their ground. He wanted to be _Peter’s_ home. But Tony, _for the first time,_ discovered… _this_ was what a home for him felt like.

He settled into a steady rhythm, moving inside of Peter. Letting everything stretch into the time that they never had before. Letting the desire build. Feeling the heat surround his entire body. Diffuse and direct both. And kissing. Always kissing. When a kiss was impossible — gasping… moaning… broken, panting breaths — Tony’s mouth found skin beneath it. 

The curl behind Peter’s ear that he loved, he kissed it. “Peter…” The name so soft on a breath, so quiet that no one but Peter could hear. “I love you.” 

Tony shifted his weight to balance more of it on his elbows and knees. Still keeping Peter safe beneath him, keeping his cock trapped between their slick, messy bellies. His fingers tangled in soft, sweat-soaked curls. 

On an endless deep kiss, he moved in long strokes, holding, grinding, before repeating, over and over. 

“That’s it, baby. So beautiful. God Pete… I wanted… _so much._ Wanted you. Wanted this… Your first… Wanted your touch… Your kiss…” 

He listened to Peter respond. To having him inside. To his voice. To him. No high could ever compete. Tony watched him come closer to coming a second time. When Peter started to writhe and arch, he slipped one arm under his waist. “Let go. Let go, Peter. Baby, I’ll catch you.”

_This_ is what Peter wanted — all of this. Tony being so gentle and so thorough and so sweet. Peter kept his mouth close to that mouth that was saying such sweet things. In his years of fantasies he had dreamed that Tony would probably praise him, at least. But _this_? This was beyond perfect.

And for godssake, did Tony just say ‘I love you’ _before_ he came? Peter was going to ask for his more often. 

Peter let himself float on sensation (hoping he wouldn’t embarrass himself by coming twice) but he heard the word ‘first’ and his eyes flew open.

“Yes, Tony. This is yours. This is… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the first time… this is _yours._ All of it. All of me.”

He was trying to work up the nerve to say something else — something like ‘my body is yours,’ but then, ah fuck, he was coming _again_ and he couldn’t say anything.

“Let go. Let go, Pete. Baby, I’ll catch you,” Tony was crooning, and that made it all right. 

Tony lifted Peter by the waist, quickly catching him between his shoulders with the flat of his other hand. He raised him to straddle his legs as he sat back on his haunches. Holding him solidly, he let them settle into the new position, still with Tony buried deep inside Peter.

Just like Peter knew how to bring him back from a nightmare, he knew how to bring Peter back from his overwhelming senses. He knew how firmly he needed to caress. He knew that his scent helped, so he gentled Peter into the crook of his neck, then let him hold himself there. Being held helped, but not if he was held too tightly where he couldn’t trust that he could break free without hurting Tony. And he knew that his voice — and that turned him on _inordinately_ — helped. Maybe most of all.

“Peter… you’re so _good,_ baby. Coming again. Letting yourself go. I love that. Don’t ever fight it, Pete. I love that you can come more than once. Can come so soon. So _easily.”_ He rocked back just enough to look down between them. “Look at you… That beautiful cock of yours still twitching, hardly gone down at all. I know you’ll get hard again from almost _anything._ You’re just… fuckin’ incredible baby. 

“You knew I’d catch you… and I always will. Now come back to me, Peter. Just like you did the first time. I’ll catch you when you fall to pieces and I’ll put you back together, baby.”

Tony kept stroking Peter’s back while gently rocking them together in his lap. Not thrusting yet, just enough to keep them both going, waiting for Peter. “Beautiful, baby. You’re perfect.”

Peter moaned helplessly, as best he could, it came out more as a tiny whimper, when Tony moved his head into the safest place in the world, the place in between his head and his shoulder. 

Peter spent _too much time_ there, he had promised himself (many times!) that he would stop hiding there when he became overwhelmed. They had been lovers for quite a while now — he was a year past being a virgin — he didn’t want to be the clinger or the hider any more! But _this_ didn’t count. _Tony moved him there himself_ , as if requesting it, and Peter would have to explain, some day, how much that meant to him.

Not right now. Right now he was recovering.

Not an easy task. Tony was still inside him, not softening and still holding on in the afterglow. No. Tony was still hard.

Tony felt Peter begin to calm as he clung to him. Having him do that — clinging, taking comfort, wanting Tony — it was profound. And, on a more earthly level, sexy as fuck. Even though Peter was still whimpering, Tony didn’t just gently rock into him, he began thrusting up. 

He felt Peter tighten the circle of his arms around him. “Oh baby… yes. Hold on, Pete. Hold _tight._ Hold on to me. I love that.”

His thrusts became sharp snaps of his hips. “I can tell. It scares you. ” Tony moaned. When he was deep inside the boy he ground up against him, seeking to somehow be even deeper.

“Baby, you’re in control… always in control… _with me you’re in control._ Don’t be scared of it.” He was close, so close. He went faster. “I trust you, Peter. Hold me baby. You won’t hurt me.” Tony pulled back before gliding back into Peter, slowly, making himself shudder with need. When he was all the way inside, he bent his head to Peter’s shoulder and tried to kiss him there. But instead of a kiss, open-mouthed against Peter’s skin, a muffled groan was all he could manage as he came. 

It wasn’t how they made love on Peter’s actual first time. It’s how he _wished_ they had. Because this? Holding Peter. Feeling the orgasmic tension in both their bodies slip away. Their breaths steady against each other. Their recovery so closely shared. One of the many reasons that, if he had a favorite position, especially to finish, this was it. He stroked Peter’s back, nuzzled against his neck, tasted his skin on his lips. Each with their arms around the other. Surrounding Peter as Peter surrounded him. Orbital.

Tony slowly loosened his hold on Peter’s back and managed that kiss on his shoulder that he missed when he came. His hands rubbed firmly down the boy’s back as his cock slipped free of his heat. “God Peter, you’re beautiful. I told you you wouldn’t hurt me.” He smiled, knowing the boy would be worried about even the slightest bruise. “I like it. The little bruises. I know they’re yours. I know I’m yours as much as you’re mine.”

Peter moaned a little at the words and tried to look into Tony’s face, trying to make his eyes focus, then looked for the bruises, moaning a little at that idea.

But he grinned sheepishly too. Tony couldn’t leave bruises on his skin, no matter how often he had tried. He claimed he could see the purple marks rise sometimes, but they were never there when Peter looked in the mirror. Still, Peter always appreciated the effort. He reached out and fingered, gingerly, the spots where his fingers had dug in. He had marked Tony. That made Tony his. It used to make him miserable. Now, he smiled.

Then he groaned. “Fuck Tony, you made me come twice,” he murmured, still in shock. Then he grinned even more and hid his face in that safe place in Tony’s neck. 

“I came like a virgin.”

“Of course you did,” Tony said smiling softly. “You’re _my_ virgin. You’ll always be my virgin.”


	7. The Seven Deadly Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dammit I’m going for all seven, Parker. Lust can’t win out over Sloth. We’re both tired. We just fucked. Still Lust and not Sloth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, guys, here we are. At the end of **My Virgin (Revisited)** , Book 4. Next Thursday we begin with **The Cold** , Book 5, where we find out what it was that Peter had to talk about, but, like he said in **Tomorrow** , "not yet." It's finally "yet". 
> 
> Thank you for following this story and for following the [Messages](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558027) series. It means the world to us, because this whole thing is truly a labor of love and we appreciate every reader so much. The best way to make sure you get notifications is to subscribe to both the series, and then to the story. 
> 
> We're still sticking to the "every Thursday" posting schedule. **The Cold** is 7 chapters long and is complete and starts posting on Thursday, April 9, 2020. See you there and then.

They were laying side by side, the sweat cooling from their bodies in the dark room. Peter lay on one of Tony’s convenient towels, holding his lover by one hand. After all that touching Peter felt drunk… no, not drunk… over-satiated. A half-hour before he had been clinging to Tony, desperate for that skin-to-skin. Now he pulled away from Tony’s arms, recovering.

They lay very close to each other, not touching. Peter played idly with his lover’s fingers. They talked about everything and nothing, about his senses-dialing, and what it was like to be dialed up and dialed down. About Peter’s _real_ first time and how this had been different. About playing the game again, and what to call it. About how it could be played differently, what other forms it could take. Soon the conversation drifted aimlessly. About the social construct of ‘virginity’. About what was considered a virtue, and what wasn’t, but should be. From there they began to list their comparative sins.

“Do they have a separate deadly sin for wanting to take your virginity?” Tony teased. “For wanting to be your first and only? Wait. That’s Lust, obviously. Pride, I guess because there’s more than a little bit of,” he chuckled, “‘if you’ve had me, I’ve ruined you for anyone else’.”

“True. I’m not sure if it’s Pride to simply be stating facts.”

Tony laughed. “It’s still Pride to be proud of that fact. Greed, because I’m possessive as fuck, and you knew it and _still_ wanted to be in my bed.”

Peter laughed quietly. “It’s not like you could _share_ me, that’s not a virtue. What you’re calling Greed might just be ‘being faithful’ so I’m not sure that counts either.”

Tony shook his head once. “When you’d ruin any other person who interfered, it crosses over faithful into Greed.” He paused, trying to count his sins. There were so many more than the Church counted, but they were limiting themselves, thankfully, to the seven. “I’m missing some. I know I must have the whole collection. Damn. What are the Seven Deadly Sins? Should’ve paid more attention in catechism class.”

Tony stared at the ceiling as if the answer was written there. “Vanity? I’m kind of well known as the king of ego. Wrath? You haven’t seen that one baby, but if anyone but me ever touched you, _they’d_ certainly see it. “Sloth?” He snorted. “My seventy-two hour work binges kinda kill that one. Envy? Nah. No one else has anything that I want,” he said, running his finger along Peter’s arm. “Damn. Only got five out of seven. Gonna have to sleep in more and find something I want that someone else has.” He paused for quite awhile. “Envy. Because…” Tony hesitated. “I don’t want anyone else to be that ground you cling to. If there was anyone… That’s Envy. Six out of seven,” he amended.

“But _you,_ my sweet innocent Peter Parker, I think we’ll have to look up the Seven Heavenly Virtues for you. Because you don’t have any of the sins.”

“Pride,” Peter said quietly, looking into Tony’s eyes. “No, I mean it. Look at me. I _asked_ you to do... _this,”_ he said, gesturing to their two bodies. He couldn’t think of a better word to describe the incredible thing that had just happened to him. “To play this game with me. And in the middle, what did I do? I decided to _argue_ with you about being your virgin. ‘If it gets in the way of doing what you enjoy… something something’. I forget the quote. But my pride almost got in my way tonight, so that makes it a sin.

“And Lust… I definitely get Lust.”

“Okay but you have the virtue of Kindness to offset one of those. I don’t. And you get… um… okay not Chastity,” Tony said with a giggle. “Patience. You get Patience. You put up with me.”

“No, there is no ‘Virtues offset’. That’s not… not for this one. This one is way too big to get an offset.”

He reached out with tender fingers and lay them against Tony’s lips. He looked toward Tony’s shoulder, his usual place for confessions, and decided against it.

“Tell me, wicked boy, why do you get Lust? I corrupted _you.”_

“Because so much of those unsent messages were my own fault,” Peter said very quietly.

“No, I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, that six-week stretch that we were apart, that dry spell, that wasn’t entirely your fault. Okay, you could have said ‘no’ to some SI business, but Avenger business is Avenger business. This is the life we chose. But what happened _up until_ that dry spell, that was on me. That was Lust.

_“Think_ about it. The two times we met at the Plaza. We didn’t have much time, and _you offered to talk._ You _said_ we needed to catch up. You’ve always asked me about school. But all I could do was look at the clock. That’s why I insisted we ‘talk naked’. And once naked, well…”

“Once naked, I started kissing you as I recall. Lust is mine. Not sharing.”

“And being a good kisser is a _virtue,_ not a vice,” Peter said grinning.

“Okay… I kissed you but… you’re right! You pushed me on my back and climbed on top of me. You completely seduced me. You held me down,” Tony smiled at the memory of how Peter’s strong hands felt on his shoulders. There were so many ways that what he felt about Peter were wrong. That was another. Knowing that he would _never_ hurt him. Even when he was as angry as he’d ever been, he held all that strength back because of who he was with. Because _he_ wasn’t a dorm room wall. That was a fuckin’ rush.

“But then you flipped me over and pinned me,” Peter said. “ And claimed you were going to use your tie to bind my wrists… but I begged you not to because I was afraid I would ruin it…”

Tony hadn’t thought of tying Peter up until he saw the four poster bed in the suite, then he couldn’t get it out of his mind. It wasn’t that Peter objected to the idea of being tied up, but he objected quite firmly to being tied up with Tony’s tie. No matter how much he tried to convince Peter that the tie was near worthless, chosen only for its color and was probably the cheapest piece of silk in his closet. It was an impulse purchase and he’d only spent two fifty on it. Peter’s eyes went wide and he insisted even more that he didn’t want to ruin something so expensive, because he was certain he’d tear it, if not break the beautiful bed — which Tony could easily pay the hotel for. Instead, Peter had an alternate suggestion to save both clothing and furniture. Tony let Peter roll them again and Peter climbed on top.

Watching Peter ride him? That was always a very _lustful_ thing to do.

“I’m gonna have to share Lust dammit!”

“I’m sorry if it hurts your Pride,” Peter grinned.

Then his smile fell as he remembered.

“And you do. I get Lust. Because at the Waldorf? I have no excuse. I spent a week promising myself I _**would**_ talk to you about the things that were bothering me. _Promised_ myself sex could wait. Tony, I was telling myself we were going to talk about it _as I was walking in the lobby.”_ He sighed. “Oh god, But then I saw you there, standing in your Zegna suit and all my self-control went right out the window..

“And don’t you see? I made sure we stayed naked the entire time, if you remember. I didn’t even let us get dressed to eat. We stayed naked right up until you left.

“Then Happy drove me back and I spent entire drive being bitter that we had only had sex for twelve hours and never talked. Told myself you were treating me like a… whatever.”

“Like an _escort?”_

Peter’s eyes closed. “Exactly. And I’d _like_ to think I never would have said that to you out loud, I keep telling myself that. But really I only had myself to blame. So I get Lust. You’ll just have to share that one.”

“But I get the rest of the sins. You lose Chastity for Lust, I’ll grant you that. But being shy about being a virgin hardly counts as Pride.”

“It _is_ Pride. It wasn’t ‘shy’. I was willing to admit my lack of experience to someone else, maybe, I mean I had no problem admitting it to the friends I fooled around with. It was no big deal to make a list of things we had and hadn’t done when we were all just experimenting anyway. But admit it to _you?_ My idol and long-term crush and mentor? Admit it to _Iron Man?_ Nope. Never gonna happen.”

“Still not Pride. You admitted it to people who didn’t matter. That’s not pride, that’s love, baby,” Tony said tenderly. “It’s hard to admit things to people you love. To show them your less than perfect side. Not pride. Heart.”

“Tony, that makes it _worse_ , not better. Lying to the man I was in love with — nope. You lose this argument. I was too proud to admit to things in front of Tony Stark, Sex God. Anyway you _might_ be right but I’m far too proud to concede the point,” Peter said with a grin.

“I will grant you Pride,” Tony said, thinking of the many long _discussions_ — arguments — they’d had over the issues of class and money. “But not for that. Not for that at all. Thought I might take you out and see about getting you that beautiful watch I was looking at.”

“Do I get dishonesty? Is that one of them?” Peter said, changing the subject quickly. It was an easy cover, though. His eyes were drifting closed now, and he was beginning to recognize the signs of being too tired to go to bed. If he didn’t get into the shower soon he wouldn’t get there at all.

“Nope. Lying, dishonesty, prevarication are all venial sins. Still going to heaven as long as you confess.”

“Confess… who whom? _Damn,_ this Catholic shit is confusing.”

“It’s easy. You get down on your knees in front of an older man and…,” Tony grinned, “make your confession.”

Peter grinned too. “Too tired,” he said, then he pointedly looked down in between Tony’s legs. “But Lust might win out over that one. And you _neeeeeeever_ let me do that… that is criminal. _That_ should be a deadly sin.”

“Not true! I let you go down on me. Even let you…” Tony took Peter’s hand and put it on his arc reactor, “taste me.”

“And you taste like a piece of heaven…” Peter whispered gently, moving in for a kiss. He knew he was the only one who had ever touched Tony there intimately. Because the world was apparently full of insane people who had no appreciation for tech and who were also blind.

_“And_ I let you do it more than once.”

“And I remember every single time I’ve tasted you,” Peter whispered against Tony’s lips before laying back. “And I can count them on one hand… wait, okay I need two. _Six_ times, Tony. Only six. _That_ is a sin. Oh! Greed! That means I get Greed too.”

“Nope. There is NO WAY you get Greed. Wanting more sex is still Lust….”

“I want more _Tony.”_ Peter grumbled even as his eyes began to close. “Greed.”

“…So you only get Lust and Pride still.”

“Too tired to argue. So there’s Sloth.”

“Dammit I’m going for all seven, Parker. Lust can’t win out over Sloth. We’re both tired. We just fucked. Still Lust and not Sloth.”

“Okay. Can you make a robot that will bring the shower to _us_ so we don’t have to get up?”

“We can sleep messy. That’s _DEFINITELY_ Sloth.”

Peter giggled, completely scandalized at the idea of not showering after sex. But he giggled with his eyes closed. Sleep was closing in.

“Besides, I like the way the bed smells when it smells of you and sex, Lust boy,” Tony said, rolling over to spoon Peter’s back. He kissed Peter behind the ear. “So, what dishonesty do you have weighing on your conscience? Can’t get to heaven with that.”

“I’m in heaven now,” Peter murmured, realizing he _could_ go to sleep, just like this. It had to be some great scandal, sleeping without a shower, but in the arms of Tony Stark surely scandal was to be expected?

Then he realized he should probably answer Tony’s question.

“Oh, I never lied to you about anything big. But… you asked me how I was. And I said ‘fine’. Those last three times we saw each other before the six week dry spell. And I _wasn’t fine_. I wanted to talk to you about how I felt, but I kept quiet. I was pretending… dammit... it’s _hard_ to tell while pretending everything is good, being brave when it’s just a lie. But I know it was a lie, because if I had talked to you, even once? About how I felt? I never would have sat on the rooftop texting messages into the void.

“And that’s Pride, again. Being so goddamn proud of myself for being honest, and saying what I mean. But I really just let things fester until I thought I was ready to break up with you.”

“Nah. Still just lying. Still just venial. Motive for lies doesn’t matter. Only that you didn’t tell the truth, even in a text you deleted. You sinned in your mind.”

“I’d rather you sin in my mouth,” Peter complained, moving a fraction of an inch, pressing his backside against the object in question, the object of his greed. But he was too sleepy to do anything else.

“Besides I told you, I’m _in_ heaven now. Don’t move and I can stay there.”

They talked a little bit more, mostly in whispers. Teased each other. Traded ‘I love yous’. Soon Tony was asleep.

But Peter wasn’t.

And soon it was clear why.

His eyes were too tired to keep open, but every time they closed Peter found himself in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable place. A jewelry store of some kind, probably Tiffany’s. Letting Tony buy him a watch.

A watch that might cost as much as a car. Or even a semester’s tuition.

And every time he found himself there he jerked himself away. Jerked himself awake.

_Pride_.

Tony had hit on an uncomfortable truth. ‘I am in this picture and I don’t like it’, his tired brain protested. And it was true. Peter Parker was too proud to let Tony buy him a watch. Too proud to even go look at it. Tony was convinced that it was a working-class thing. Peter had him convinced.

Peter felt his lower lip tremble a bit, felt the tears threaten to come. He told himself it was just exhaustion. Physical exhaustion from making love to a man who could dial his sense up to eleven and then keep dialing. Emotional exhaustion from the past days that had seemed to go on for months on end. Spiritual exhaustion from having his whole life turned upside down, nearly losing his balance in that world completely, and having it all set right again.

Because _Tony_ had apologized.

And that was good, wasn’t it? Didn’t Tony have a lot to apologize for?

_“Pride,”_ Peter whispered against the bed, wet with his own tears.

Peter was a proud man, and the great injustice of it was, the same people who would say it to Tony’s face would never condemn it in Peter. But Peter was hurting Tony with his Pride. The Pride of a young kid who didn’t want to be taken into a place where he was helplessly ignorant, and laughably so. A place where he was embarrassed. A place where he was stupid.

Which made no sense, of course. If Tony took him into a nanotech lab tomorrow where he could identify exactly nothing, Peter would be enchanted. Being slammed with a massive amount of information he didn’t previously know was usually a dream come true. And Tony had done that before, introduced him to tech that his own instructors had never heard of, thrown him headfirst into a pool of endless, and utterly new, toys.

And there, Peter swam like a fish.

But this? This threat of going to that place for ‘that watch I was looking at’. That 'watch' that cost multiple figures. Laying in a case in a jewelry store among other watches worth astronomical amounts of money. In that place Peter would be like a fish climbing a tree.

Or like a fish in the Plaza, where he found himself thrilled at the idea of being tied to a bedpost and fucked into oblivion, only to humiliate himself by thinking Tony’s ‘only two fifty’ tie was a $2.50 tie.

“I get Pride,” he whispered into the bed, waiting for the tears to fall.

This was ridiculous. Peter had just experienced the best sex of his life, was he _really_ going to cry himself to sleep? Stupid. Tony really had ‘broken’ him. That first night he had gone to Tony’s bed certain that the man couldn’t physically hurt him. He was the unbreakable superhero, had Tony really _broken_ him tonight? Obviously. He was broken now.

He shook his head (as best he could against the mattress, as best he could without waking up Tony) and ordered himself to sleep.

Okay, so he had a problem. Okay, it was a doozy. And like all problems, he was going to come up with a plan to solve it.

All by himself, of course.

Pride demanded it.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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> Witchway's Starker blog on tumblr is [thestarkerisobvious](https://thestarkerisobvious.tumblr.com/).  
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